Work Text:
Being overtired and surrounded by idiots is not a fun combination.
Jason had been called to an emergency mission by the big-bad-bat . Really, after almost a month worth of silence, dancing around each other and keeping out of eachothers business the last thing he expected was a call in the early hours of the morning. He had gotten about two hours of sleep before Bruce had demanded his presence at the cave. Jason had two thoughts at that moment.
One, why the fuck was he called at seven a.m and not in the afternoon like normal?
Two, who the fuck did Bruce think he was, demanding things from him?
Jason had almost throw his phone across the room at the surge of anger in his tired, scrambled and newly woken up mind. Luckily, Bruce had managed to backtrack and ask instead and after a few threats from Jason, had even added on a hesitant, reluctant ‘ Please’ .
That was enough for Jason to grab his gear and make the drive over.
Apparently, Black Mask thought that if he secured his deals while the sun shone (Well, shone above the clouds at least because, Gotham) then no Bat could stop him. At least not alone, given Signal was the only one who patrolled.
His dealings?
The biggest shipment of guns, grenades and materials to build all the bombs he could ever want. It would spell disaster if he got his grimy, sweaty hands all over it. So it was all hands on deck and, given Jason was the one who worked closest to Black Mask, he had a special invitation to help. He never could say no to fuck up Sionis’s day, even if he wanted to refuse based on spite.
Now, almost twenty-eight hours of information gathering, planning, strategizing and execution later they all stumbled out of the Batmobile after delivering Sionis’s crew that was handling the shipment and almost all of his lieutenants to the police. Luckily, none of them had been gravely injured in the mission. Stephanie had a sprained ankle from a nasty fall and Dick had ended up with some bruised ribs, but those were the worst.
Well, almost the worst, given Tim’s bloodied nose.
Tim’s red, crooked and bruised nose that was the reason almost all of them had a case of The Giggles .
“Come on guys.” Tim whined as he climbed out of his seat, letting out a small curse as blood dripped onto the black, clean leather. Bruce was going to kill him for that. “It really fucking hurts.”
“Maybe you need to stop kissing walls, then.” Stephanie cackled as she hobbled after him, trying her best to keep as much weight off her foot as possible. Before she could do something stupid like fall flat on her face, however, Cassandra slid up beside her to wrap an arm around her middle to hold her up. A smirk was plastered on her face, and somehow it seemed equally parts mischievous and fucking terrifying.
“Hey, that's not fair!” Tim protested but immediately winced, holding onto his nose a bit looser with the paper towel. “That shitty wall was in my way.”
“True,” Cassandra simply said, her smirk growing just a little. “Maybe you should ask it to move over, next time.” Stephanie just laughed louder at the comment, doubling over slightly and almost bringing her helper down with her. Luckily, not many could bring down Cassandra Cain.
“Or just not release your grapple too early,” Duke stumbled out of his seat while he wheezed, reaching up to wipe something from his eyes. “Dude, like seriously ?”
“Sometimes I marvel at your stupidity, Drake.” Damian deadpanned from where he stood to his right, and the tone of it all just made everyone else laugh harder.
“I’m tired, okay?!” Tim looked like he wanted to throw his hands up in exasperation, but abandoned the thought given his hand holding the bloody piece of tissue. Something about the image reminded Jason of an angry puppy, and he could feel the coil of held back laughter in his chest.
“It’s okay, Tim. Really.” Dick placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, but even he couldn’t hide his chuckles. Tim spun around, pointing an accusatory finger at the blue bird symbol.
“You are a traitor. You find amusement in my suffering you heathen- Shit!” Tim cursed, blood spilling over his hands and dripping down onto the cave floor.
“There there, Timbers.” Jason couldn’t hold back his smirk as he patted Tim’s back. The swirl of adrenaline from a job well done mixed with the fuzzy cloud over his mind made him not care so much about it. “No need to get your spandex in a twist-”
“Oh don’t you even start!”
“It comes a day in every birdies life when you get the wrong angle-”
“Jason I swear to god-”
“-and slam into your first wall. But I just want you to know-”
“I will strangle you. I’ll strangle you until you’re dead. You want to die again?”
“-It’s okay! It’s a thing that happens. Being embarrassed about it is a completely natural reaction. Everyone makes mistakes!” Jason paused, feeling his smirk just grow wider as the laughter around them grew. “Well- I’ve never slammed into a wall on my own accord, but I totally get how you’re feeling-”
“Oh my god.” Tim groaned. A groan that grew into a small yell as he buried his face in his hands. He sounded like a man close to breaking. Or perhaps a man close to breaking
something
. “
Oh my god–
I meant to slam into that wall! I wanted to smack head first into it!”
The cave fell silent at the outburst. Stephanie had a hand over her mouth, with Cass standing almost expressionless beside her, only with slightly wide eyes. Duke’s mouth hung open and Dick had the most bewildered, concerned look on his face. Like he was worried Tim had hurt more than just his nose. Jason could only stare. Stare and stare with raised eyebrows as Tim let out a long, deep sigh and then-
“Dear god. He’s finally lost it.” Damian broke the silence. The furrow of his brow, the utter confusion that showed about what was happening at that moment, the tone of his voice- The cave erupted into laughter. Stephanie bent over again, this time actually dragging Cassandra down to her level as she too started to cackle. Duke wrapped an arm around his stomach as he laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes that he had to wipe away. Dick had his head tilted back as giggled, one hand going out to clasp Jason’s shoulder and Jason- the tight coil in his chest he had been trying to hold back snapped and he dissolved into hysterics.
It had been some time since Jason had laughed. Bright and unrestrained, surrounded by others. Without the small pit of shame in his gut that always tinged his ears a soft pink. The heaviness of hearing the sound echo across the walls, bringing back memories. But now on the cusp of consciousness, with only two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours (give or take) he didn’t care about that. His mind was too clouded and his body too light and he just laughed, wiping at the corner of his eye.
Damian looked at them all, bewildered. Like he couldn’t understand what had been so funny. Why they had all delved into madness in the middle of the cave. He turned to Bruce, who was the last one to get out of the Batmobile, with deeply furrowed brows.
“Father, I’m surrounded by idiots.”
The laughter grew at the comment. Stephanie held onto her chest as if her life depended on it, trying desperately to suck in air in between her giggles.
“Dear god I can’t breathe.” She managed to wheeze out, only to dissolve further. Cassandra gave her back small pats as she herself tried to calm down. Bruce simply smiled at his son, giving his shoulder a little squeeze as he walked by to get to Tim.
“It’s alright, son. It’s alright.” He said, an oddly fond tone to his voice, before he walked over to Tim. Who grumbled and muttered curses as he held his paper to his nose. Without asking, Bruce reached over to assess the damage and without complaining, Tim just let his arms drop.
“Your nose will be fine.” Bruce said and with the most deadpanned, deep voice added: “The wall shall not claim another victim, this day.” He sounded so serious. His voice having dropped into his usual Batman growl. The one reserved for the most rotten of criminals. The deadliest rogues. The one he used when he swore vengeance and destruction upon his enemies.
Duke dropped to his knees with how hard he was laughing, wheezing and coughing as he tried to breathe. Dick had bent over completely now, clutching his stomach while he scrambled with his free hand to grasp onto Jason’s shoulder so the floor wouldn’t claim him too. Jason’s own laughter just climbed. Climbed so high in volume for a moment it was all he could hear over all the other giggles in the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this. His stomach hurt from the feeling, a small buzz starting to build in the back of his head.
“Alright, alright.” Bruce said after a minute or two (or a few hours .), letting out a chuckle of his own. “Calm down before you all pass out from suffocation.”
“T-totally worth– worth it–” Stephanie gasped from where she stood, trying to catch her breath.
Cassandra was the first one who calmed down of them all, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she grinned. Duke was catching his breath on the floor, still wiping tears from his eyes. Dick let out the occasional giggle, but tried his best to catch his breath. Take a couple of deep ones before a small chuckle slipped and he had to focus on breathing again. Jason was still laughing. Laughing because he felt so light and free in his overtired mind. Laughing because there was a small static building in the inside of his skull.
“Alright, Little Wing–Alright.” Dick moved his hand from his shoulder to his back, giving it two small hits as he chuckled beside him. “Careful not to choke.”
Jason used his hand that wasn’t clutching his stomach to lightly jab Dick in the shoulder, still slightly bent over as laughter spilled from his mouth. He couldn’t stop the giggles. Not while he thought of Tim smacking into the wall and the high pitched yelp that had cracked. Not while he could still see Damian looking so utterly confused. Not while he could hear it echoed back into his head, joining the laughter that always lingered in the back of it. That started to grow a little, now.
“Okay, Jason, it wasn't that funny.” Tim mumbled while he brought the tissue back to his nose.
Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was because Jason hadn’t slept properly in a few days. Maybe it was because he hadn’t slept at all in twenty-nine something hours on top of that. Maybe it was because the laughter he let out mixed with the laughter always present in his mind. It blended together until he wasn’t sure what was his own. What was Jason’s and what was his .
“Jason?” Dick took a step closer to him on his right, the hand now staying pressed between his shoulder blades. The touch ached. Ached like his stomach was starting too. Like his cheeks had done for a while. Jason was starting to not want it to ache anymore. He wanted to let his lungs breathe in air and his lips to stop twitching upwards but he couldn’t.
Something akin to dread ran down his spine. Like a bucket of ice cold water had been drenched on top of him. Washed over his shaking form until all he could sense were shivers. They spread down his neck, across his shoulders and arms. It washed over his chest and seeped into his ribcage, now swirling in his gut. His gut that clenched with every breath he let out. That twisted and turned until it became laughter. The sound of it just made the chill turn even more frigid. Made whatever was trapped inside his chest convulse at every little movement he made.
You can shut up now.
The cave had fallen silent. At least Jason thought it had. But it was hard to hear anything over the giggles that still punched out of his throat with every breath and the loud, pulsating beat of his heart that echoed in his ears. The laughter that joined from his own head. That he never could quite will away, even if he ignored it as best he could. Until this moment when it was louder than a gunshot. Louder than roaring thunder.
You can stop laughing now .
He wanted to. He tried. God did Jason start to try. But if he even thought of trying to stop laughing. To shut his mouth and close his eyes and just breathe the sound seemed to only climb. Higher and higher until he couldn’t think . There was an emotion not unlike fear that was starting to rise in his throat along the sound and he didn’t know what was worse. The sound that spilled around him, that was beginning to grate against the inside of his skull, high pitched and horrid or the feeling of slowly but surely losing control. Grasping at the strings that held himself together rather nicely most of the time. That had been torn and ripped to shreds at the first fit of cackles he had let out without his knowledge. That he couldn’t hold together anymore.
Please stop laughing now -
No matter how hard Jason tried to press his lips together it didn’t help. Only helped him feel like he was slowly suffocating. It made his head spin, black spots dancing just at the edge of his vision, darkening the cave floors that swam in front of him. Until his lungs and chest ached with the need for air. The need to continue that horrible, deafening sound that still escaped in desperate muffled cries. Tried to worm its way out past his mouth. It still sounded just as loud in his head. It sounded even louder when his mouth flew open in his body’s desperate need to survive, even if Jason felt like he wanted to die -
Please please please -
Suddenly the cave floor was much closer. Suddenly he could feel a distant ache spread across his knees that may have made him wince if he could feel anything other than the rumbling in his chest, the way his stomach clenched over and over and over – the way he wasn’t sure if he had ever gotten out of that warehouse. It was too deafening to think of anything more rational. Anything past the way he could hear him -
Jason managed to press his hands (they were free – they were free and he could move -) to his ears in an attempt to get it all to stop. Get it to stay quiet long enough that made he could stop letting out that laugh. But it was just as loud- bouncing on the inside of his skull over and over and over and getting louder and louder-
He wouldn’t be sure he was laughing anymore if it weren’t for the fact he could feel his body shake with it, feel the ache spread over his body even if he had blocked out the sound from around him.
He wouldn’t be so sure he was breathing anymore if it wasn’t for the fact he was laughing still, loud and unbearable and horrible .
He wouldn’t be so sure he was even alive if it wasn’t for the fact that he was breathing.
Because for a moment. For one horrible, dreadful moment Jason wondered if he had ever left that warehouse. If he was still hitting him with that crowbar and cracking his skull open on the concrete floor while he giggled. If he had walked away with bright laughter as he locked the door behind him. Leaving the sound to echo in the empty space, only accompanied by heavy silence and faint ticking.
It wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard he pressed against his ear. Just how it hadn’t ever stopped since he crawled out of the dirt.
Panic was starting to grip him now. Not just cold, horrible dread. Not just frightful horror. But pure panic. The instinct that made his whole body lock up, every time he felt it hold him. Grasp him tightly until he couldn’t move . Could only stand still in hopes that maybe , maybe the danger would pass on its own. If he didn’t move, he wouldn’t be a target. Akin to the way any animal would freeze in the presence of danger in the hopes that maybe they would survive, too.
Jason just wanted it to stop .
He needed it to stop.
His hands shook as he lifted them from his ears. The laughter grew almost twice as loud and it barely sounded over the other choruses of voices around him. Some tried to keep him calm. Some were frantic. Some demanded attention. But the laughter was too loud. His throat hurt too much. His lungs squeezed too tightly and Jason was going to die again .
In frantic, desperate movements he managed to grasp his cheeks. Move his hands down his jaw and the sides of his neck before he wound the spot he was looking for. He could distantly feel the movement of his throat, matching the desperate breaths. The awful hysterics. The grating sounds that left his mind in shambles he couldn’t grasp. But he could grasp his throat. Could wrap his hands around it tightly to maybe- maybe get it to just stop.
His mind cleared momentarily as the laughter cut off. For one blissful second, Jason could actually think past the feeling of dying. The feeling that he’d never really been alive. The loud cackles of a madman as he split his head apart again– again again again-
That was until he could hear a shout in the sudden silence in his mind. It pierced the calm and the quiet but Jason didn’t care because he could think , as his hands tightened around his throat. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t laughing to the point of wanting to bash his head against a wall and that just made him squeeze into his windpipe even further, until all he could do was wheeze. But before he could revel in the new found air he’d found his hands were ripped away and he couldn’t keep the burn from his eyes. Wrestled away from his mouth until he gasped and coughed and Jason wanted to protest. Wanted to yell and plead but all he could do was laugh .
Laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh-
Laugh like his mother had done as she threw him in the air, catching him and spinning him around in one of his earliest memories.
Laugh like Willis had done whenever he had taken Jason out to get Ice cream, before the jail cells and stale beer.
Laugh like the looming figure of Batman, The Dark Knight, scourge on the criminals of Gotham, when he found him screwing the fourth bolt off of the third wheel on his car.
Laugh like Nightwing, as he ran across the trains. As he leaped through the air with a joyous shout.
Laugh like the Joker. Bright and high pitched and horrid and endless .
Laugh like he did when the metal drove into Jason’s limbs. The force of the blow shattered his bones. Tearing up his flesh. Destroying him slowly.
Laugh like he did while he taunted. While his lips were tugged into a sickening, gleeful smile. Forehand or backhand? He had asked. Which do you prefer?
Laugh like he did when he slammed his face into the concrete floors, painted red beneath him. When he twisted his bones because he liked hearing him cry out. When he drove the crowbar into every part of his body until it burned .
Laugh like he did when the metal met the back of his skull again and again and again and again and again until it seeped into his mind in a mix of blood and white ivory. Until he couldn’t help but hear anything else. Until all thoughts had bled away and he just remembered high pitched hysterics.
Laugh like the one that echoed after the door shut. That still bounced around his head as heat enveloped him. That was the last thing he heard before he couldn’t hear anything more.
Laugh like Jason had tried to, choking on his own blood and holding a shaking hand to the side of his throat. Sitting in the rubble of everything he’d planned. Everything he’d hoped for. Hoped that Bruce would care enough. Hoped the Joker would stay silent, never being able to laugh again.
Maybe he was going mad. Maybe he was truly hysterical, fallen into insanity as he kept going.
Jason wondered. If he looked into a mirror, who would stare back at him?
Once a monster, always a monster,
Jason wanted to pull the hands back. Wanted to cut off the sound until he could never hear it again. Until he could never make it again. Until there was no doubt in his mind that if he saw himself, heard himself from outside his body, he wouldn’t think he had broken out of his cell. Wouldn’t wonder if maybe he couldn’t ever escape from this. Wonder if maybe, he had burrowed so far in his mind Jason could never escape him.
He didn’t notice the wetness down his cheeks until he could see the drops gather on the floor, pooling together in a little puddle as he tried to breathe past the hysterics. Breathe past the utter terror of being back there.
Jason laughed as he ripped his hands away from the grip and managed to scramble up to his feet. He ignored how his stomach throbbed at the movement. How his vision immediately swam and he had to keep going so he wouldn’t fall back down to his knees.
He laughed as he ran into the door to the showers, stumbling to the floor as he rounded the corner and his hands scrambled to turn on the water. To make it fill the space. To make it roar like thunder and maybe, maybe drown out the sound.
He laughed louder than the echo of water hitting the tiles. The roar of the stream impacting on his jacket, running down his hair and face and shoulders and back- the laughter still deafening, but slowly but surely mixing with something else. It didn’t rain in the warehouse. There was no stream of water that echoed above his screams or his hysterical ring. Above the way his ears rang and heart beat loud and fast inside his skull.
The tightness in his throat lessened and his lungs were no longer convulsing as the laughter slowly, but surely, died off and he could take his first full, deep breath without breaking down in giggles. Without breaking down in hysterics. Without tears running down his cheeks as he grinned wide and unrestrained. He let out the air in his lungs, now only surrounded by the sound of water running.
Before he bent over and threw up whatever contents were left in his stomach.
The world slowly came back into focus as he retched onto the white tiled floor, holding himself up with just one of his hands on the shower wall. The shrieking left in his ear, the empty feeling that had settled over his mind in the wake of the memories and sensations and sound slowly receded. The presence of water on his back felt more real, tangible. He could feel the dampness soak into the fabric of his armor, reaching his skin and it burned.
His stomach churned further and he heaved again, the sour taste now filling his mouth. The sour taste he could feel at the back of his throat. On the roof of his mouth.
“-t’s okay–just br-he–ason” A distant voice said. It was calm and soothing and Jason wanted to chase it but all he could think about was the way his stomach throbbed. The way his throat stung from overuse. The way his mind swam and swirled like the knot in his gut. There was a hand that rested on his back, now, and it helped lessen the feeling. If only a little.
Jason lost count of how many times he threw up. How much of his stomach now coated the shower floor. How much of himself he had spilled from his chest. How much of Jason Todd was left and how much of the Joker remained.
The touch grounded him enough that he wouldn’t dissolve into hysterics yet again. That he wouldn’t split open his mind in all these worries and questions and feelings. That he wouldn’t tear himself apart. He curled in on himself, but didn’t shift further in fear of losing that tether. That small point of contact that held his sanity gently in its palm.
“There you go,” The voice said again, and it was familiar in a way that made his shoulder slump. “You’re okay, Jason. You’re okay, just breathe for me.”
Jason shuddered, dry heaving one last time before his body seemed to slump. Would have slumped, at least, if there hadn’t been an arm there to hold him up. Hold him against a steady, solid surface. Against a chest that rose and fell in deep, calm breaths. He did his best to match it and felt his lungs expand without panic, without dread- without feeling like he was dying. Exhaustion seeped into his bones now, as the shower kept washing away the bile on the tiles and the tremble of his limbs, and it made his eyes heavy.
There was a brush of something against his forehead, his wet locks falling away from eyes.
“You’re okay.”
Jason passed out before he could hear anything else.